One & Done
by Meg Moore
Summary: A collection of little one-shots with no place to call home.
1. Chapter 1

_A/N: This fic will serve as a catch-all for my filled prompts, pic-fics, and gif-fics previously published only on tumblr. All prompts and links to photos/gifs will be posted at the start of each chapter. The majority are rated K-T, but I'll post a warning about any possible M-rated material. Please keep in mind that many of these stories were written prior to the finale of the show, and as such, do not reflect canon._

 _Most of this work is not beta-ed, so all mistakes are mine. Many thanks to Kelsey for sketching the stunning cover art for this piece by hand. You are amazing!_

 _Enjoy!_

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 _Taken from a photo prompt, which can be found at castleincalifornia_ dot _tumblr_ dot _com_ slash _post_ slash _102129561779._

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It's with a stern face that Madame Olga, the owner of the studio, pulls them aside and says they have something of _the_ _utmost importance_ to discuss.

She sits at her imposing desk opposite them, with a pinched, serious look on her face. "Mr. and Mrs. Castle, we need to discuss your daughter's behavior, and whether it's appropriate for her to continue taking classes here."

They swivel their heads simultaneously, only to see Zoe hanging upside down from the barre while the other little girls obediently pay attention to their instructor. Castle snickers at the sight, and truth be told, Kate's tempted to do the same, but she gives him a light slap on the arm instead to bring his attention back to the matter at hand.

"Why don't you tell us what's been going on, Madame Olga," Kate says indulgently to the aging dancer. The woman was once a prima ballerina herself, and had produced several others through her school. Madame Olga had come highly recommended by other the other parents at Zoe's preschool when she had expressed an interest in ballet, and while both of them find her demeanor to be a bit sour, they pay her the respect she had earned during her storied career.

"Thus far, your daughter appears to lack the discipline required to pursue the art of ballet…"

"She's only four years old!" Castle interjects then, and Kate doesn't disagree with him, but she holds up a hand to stop him anyway.

"Please continue, Madame."

"She doesn't follow directions and do what is asked of her in class. She is often several steps behind the other children. And as you can see," she says, as she gestures with a nod of her head toward their youngest, "she blatantly disregards her instructors and does whatever it is she pleases, distracting the other children in the process."

Kate ducks her head, biting her lip to prevent the spread of the smile that threatens to take over her face. Good God, she could _not_ be more like her father. Madame Olga's tirade about their daughter's behavior made her think instantly of his entrance into her own life, how he had just plowed in and disregarded her instructions, ignoring her protests and knocking down her carefully constructed walls left and right.

And she loves him for it.

She looks over at Zoe once again. Their little girl continues to dangle from the barre, noisily impersonating a monkey now, her bright blue eyes sparkling and a big, uninhibited smile on her face. She looks positively ecstatic, and that's all it takes for Kate to make up her mind.

She stands abruptly then, surprising both Castle and Madame Olga, and thrusts her hand out to the fading ballerina, who takes it warily.

"Madame Olga, thank you for bringing this to our attention. We'll make sure that you receive payment for the classes Zoe has attended, but I don't think we'll be returning."

Castle looks up at her in surprise and no small amount of pleasure, a proud, lopsided smile taking over his face.

Madame Olga, however, appears flabbergasted by this turn of events. "Mr. and Mrs. Castle, I am not ejecting your daughter from my school. I am simply explaining her behavioral problems to you. I find that many times, these issues begin in the home."

Kate retracts her hand and considers biting her tongue, but _no_. Not this time. This is her _daughter_ , and she adores her _and_ the free-spirit that she has developed into. She won't allow anyone to quash that.

"And that's where we differ, Madame. I don't think my daughter has a behavioral problem. Rather, I think the problem lies with _you_. Thank you again for your time. Have a nice day."

She's walking away then, ignoring the look of pure shock and indignation on Madame Olga's face, and making a beeline for Zoe. She can hear Castle hot on her heels, trying to suppress his laughter at her outburst and doing a lousy job of it. Zoe swings down from the barre as they approach, hopping awkwardly to her slippered feet and doing a dainty little curtsy for them.

"Did you see me hangin' momma?" she bursts out when Kate scoops her up into her arms and walks to the exit.

"I sure did, kiddo. You looked fantastic."

"I was a monkey!"

"And a fabulous monkey you were, Zoe," Castle speaking up this time.

When they step out onto the busy sidewalk, Kate looks to see him beaming at her, his message unspoken but abundantly clear: you did the right thing. He leans in to kiss both of his girls then, lingering against his wife's lips just long enough so that she understands the promise of what's to come when they get into bed later that night.

She turns her attention back to their daughter then. "Hey kiddo, what do you say we go pick up your brother from soccer practice and do pizza tonight?"

Zoe's eyes get comically huge; the girl adores pizza. She really is her father's daughter, inside and out. "With _lots_ of pepperoni and olives?"

" _Tons_ of pepperoni and olives!" Castle practically shouts, reaching over to tickle his daughter and send her into a fit of uncontrolled laughter. "And after? Ice cream sundaes."

"With cherries on top?"

"Is there any other kind of sundae?" he asks her incredulously. She giggles at her daddy's silliness. Kate simply falls in love with him, all over again.

They'll eventually find a different studio for Zoe to attend. One that doesn't emphasize discipline quite so much, one that encourages happy children and free expression. But in the meantime, they have a pizza party to get to.

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 _Thank you for reading...as always, I'd love to hear your thoughts._


	2. Chapter 2

_Taken from a photo prompt, which can be found at castleincalifornia_ dot _tumblr_ dot _com_ slash _post_ slash _103331999849 (photo is mildly NSFW)._

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It's been weeks - _weeks_ \- since they've been able to string together a few days off, so when they find out that she isn't on call over the long holiday weekend, they throw a couple of things into a bag and head straight for the Hamptons.

They haven't been able to get back there since the wedding, their marriage a whirlwind of work and family and the myriad of commitments that life has a tendency of throwing at them. Castle still has Nikki Heat to write, and Kate knows all too well that crime never takes a break. Their lives mesh remarkably well though, their partnership stronger than ever; most days are happy and effortless, but their lifestyle doesn't afford them a lot of downtime.

They hold hands and listen to a mix of their jazz favorites as he sets the cruise control, the promise of several lazy, aimless days already relaxing their overworked minds and bodies. The conversation flows easily between them as they jump from one topic to the next; the latest case they solved together, the new Greek café in the village that they want to try, memories of the last time they were there.

They've barely made it through the door before they're pulling each other's clothes off, determined to start their mini-vacation properly, with some mind-blowing sex followed by dinner at the Greek place. They end up going a few exquisite rounds, but dinner turns into a pepperoni and mushroom pizza shared in bed over a bottle of their favorite red wine, neither wanting to leave the sanctuary of the house (or put on clothes).

He wakes her the next morning with a trail of kisses down her torso before busying himself between her legs, and they swear - they _swear -_ that today they're going to get dressed, drive into the village, do some grocery shopping, do _something_ other than each other. In the end, they make it as far as the back porch and onto the chaise lounge built for two, their best laid plans and minimal clothing tossed aside in favor of a more pleasurable activity. They end up having groceries delivered that afternoon.

By the third day, they've completely thrown in the towel; neither of them possesses the desire to even get dressed, let alone stray from the privacy of their home. They while away the hours cooking together, reading side-by-side on the chaise lounge, swimming and napping when they feel like it. They venture out to the beach a few times, collecting some colorful shells and letting the surf cool their toes, but they never wander far. They make love whenever the urge strikes, and it does...frequently.

On the last night, they lie in each other's arms, sweat drying and hearts calming, and they talk about the future; books he wants to write someday, what she hopes to do next in her law enforcement career. Eventually, the conversation turns to family, and to children. He pulls her close, their limbs tangled as they discuss how many they want, the names they're keen on, if they'll have his eyes, or hers. They talk about the places they'll go on vacation, about celebrating Independence Day in the Hamptons, about all of the adventures that await them. They fall asleep that way, completely intertwined, no desire to move from the other's embrace.

They drive home the next day, smiling and sated and maybe just a tiny bit sore, a happy, contented glow surrounding them as they return to the normalcy of their everyday lives. It's not until about two months later that Kate suggests a short weekend trip back to the house, but Castle needs no convincing. And this time, when they lie in their bed together, their arms and legs and bodies entangled, she lets him in on a little secret: she's pregnant.

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 _Thank you for reading...as always, I'd love to hear your thoughts._


	3. Chapter 3

_Taken from a photo prompt, which can be found at_ _castleincalifornia_ dot _tumblr_ dot _com_ slash _post_ slash _104452279999_

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The first thing Castle notices is the silence.

The loft hasn't been this quiet in days, maybe weeks, and it's almost surreal. It always seems like _someone_ is making a commotion around here; him playing a video game or Kate banging around in the kitchen, Aaron's delighted squeals and hungry wails. Sometimes it's his mother swooping in unannounced to kiss her newest grandchild on her way to teach an acting class, or Alexis stopping by to update them on her grad school applications and drop off the _My Big Sister Loves Me_ onesie that she couldn't resist. Their home is constantly full of life and noise, but right now? Silence rules.

Castle drops his keys onto the table while shrugging his jacket off, wondering where his wife and infant son have gotten off to. Aaron just celebrated seven months of life and while he's usually a charming, happy baby, he's been cutting a few teeth recently and it's been a brutal process. The poor kid has been miserable and drooling and inconsolable at times, both parents doing their very best to comfort him with extra cuddles and cold teething rings and baby Tylenol.

Stealthily tiptoeing through the open space, he's reluctant to call out in case he'd disturb anyone who might be napping. He has only to take a few steps into their bedroom when he spies them at last. They're resting on the bed together, Aaron curled up at his mother's side, fast asleep and tranquil at last. His head rests on her bosom, one arm wrapped tightly around the stuffed bunny they've affectionately named Peter.

Castle's heart threatens to burst from his chest at the sight, his beautiful son nestled against the softness of his equally beautiful wife. She's always been gorgeous, but perhaps never more so than in this new role as mother. It makes his eyes sting with the emotion it stirs deep within him, because how did he ever get so lucky? He can only shake his head in disbelief; he's a wise enough man not to question it too much, and just revel in his good fortune.

He pulls out his phone, determined to capture the moment before the fragile serenity is inevitably lost. When the shutter sounds, Kate turns toward him, her face splitting with a dazzling smile that makes him weak in the knees and oh-so-thankful to any deity who might be listening for bringing this extraordinary woman into his life.

"Hey," she says softly.

"Hey you," he replies just as quietly, no desire to wake their peaceful son. Any other time and he'd be tempted to declare his adoration for her at the top of his lungs, shout it from the rooftops to all within earshot. How supremely lucky he is to love her, and to be loved in return. What an amazing mother she's become. What a dedicated cop she continues to be. He's written eight books about her, and he feels like he could write one hundred more. She moves him that deeply.

"He's finally asleep, huh?" he whispers as he approaches the bedside, the presence of his wife and child like a powerful magnet drawing him ever closer.

She simply nods, reaching her free hand out to him in invitation, and he doesn't hesitate. He toes his shoes off before climbing onto the bed with them, his body curling around hers and pressing close to her alluring warmth. When she tilts her head in his direction, he touches his lips to hers in a tender, lingering kiss that he can only hope conveys the depth of his feelings. He might never be able to describe all the ways in which she's changed his world; how she opens him up, calms him down, makes him happy in a way he'd never known he could be. She's given him life, in more ways than one.

They smile against each other's lips when they finally break away, their joy positively infectious, and to any outsider, they'd probably look ridiculous with their wide, sappy grins. But they're oblivious to all of that as they turn their attention back to Aaron, this perfect little human being that they created together, the ultimate expression of their love and partnership. And not for the first time since Kate Beckett came into his life, Richard Castle once again realizes that home isn't the loft. It isn't a place at all. This woman is his home, his heart happy to reside with her forever.

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 _Thank you for reading...as always, I'd love to hear your thoughts._


	4. Chapter 4

_Taken from a gif prompt, which can be found at castleincalifornia_ dot _tumblr_ dot _com_ slash _post_ slash _106737078764._

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They'd been working out as a pair for only three months, but Kate had to admit, Castle was impressing her more and more by the day. His agility, strength, and stamina had swiftly improved beyond her expectations. He had proven himself to be a most diligent student, and she was only too happy to teach him hand-to-hand combat and self-defense when it meant close proximity to his sweaty, muscular body on a regular basis.

A tough case that had left them both feeling drained and disheartened was the impetus for the late-night workout, the gym having been deserted hours before. When they took to the mat and began to spar, the only sounds that filled the open space were that of their panting breaths and hearts pounding in their ears. They silently circled each other, both eying the other like prey, both becoming more and more aroused by their predatory dance.

Castle made the first move and regretted it instantly. Kate leveled him, her legs locked around his middle while trapping an arm behind his back. He briefly considered tapping out, but then recalled the evasive maneuver she had taught him just days before. Taking advantage of her momentary complacency, he flipped her with relative ease, placing her flat on her back, her arms pinned and his weight restricting the movement of her lower body.

For her part, Kate could only gasp at the bold move, and if it had been anyone else to pull it on her, she would have been furious. But at that instant, she could only concentrate on the feel of his heated body pressed firmly against her own, their lips practically brushing, every heaving breath shared in the short space between them. She looked into his eyes, hers flicking down to stare at his tempting lips for the briefest of moments before locking onto his gaze again, and what she saw there thrilled her. He was no longer Castle, her sparring partner, but Castle, the man.

They moved in sync then, their mouths fused together, their kiss deep and intoxicating. He abandoned her lips all too soon, but she couldn't complain as his tongue worked down the slope of her neck, gathering the taste of her exertions, humming in pleasure at the flavor of her skin. He slowly made his way down her body, nuzzling at her breasts, nipping at her soft curves with his teeth, finally settling between her thighs, spread so willing for him.

He nudged the waistband of her workout pants down gradually, kissing and worshipping each inch of exposed skin, his lips teasing her damp flesh. Squirming uncontrollably under his ministrations, she almost spoke then, almost begged him to _please touch her_ , but in the end, no words were necessary. When he finally lowered her pants enough to dip his tongue into her, she could only throw her head back and let him work his magic on her body.

She retuned the favor in the shower afterward.

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 _Thank you for reading...as always, I'd love to hear your thoughts._


	5. Chapter 5

_Taken from an anonymous prompt on Tumblr: Kate gets a UTI from the gratuitous sex. How they handle it, or Kate doesn't tell Castle and keeps turning it down._

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Rolling to glance at the clock on the nightstand, Castle feels all at once puzzled and impatient. How long has she been in the bathroom, anyway? Long enough that no warmth is lingering on her side of the bed anymore. There's no water running, so he knows she didn't step into the shower. He hasn't even heard the flush of the toilet. There's just…silence.

He curses his doom and gloom, worst-case scenario writer's imagination when he slips from the sheets to check on her, but _come on_. She's been in there for at least fifteen minutes, and even though they've only been together a few weeks (and what a blissful few weeks it's been), he feels he's allowed to be at least a little concerned.

His knuckles rap softly against the door. "Kate? Is everything okay in there?"

Her sigh is loud enough to be heard through the door, and she finally replies, "Yeah, I'm okay. I'll be out in a second."

"Okay."

Their relationship may still be in that shiny, getting-to-know-you-on-a- _very_ -intimate-level phase, but he already knows Kate well enough to realize she's anything _but_ okay right now. That sigh, the strained tone of her voice…yeah, something is definitely amiss.

He can only await her return now to find out what's the matter, so he settles back into the sheets, still naked from their frantic post-breakfast sex that began in the kitchen and ended in her bed. Of course, breakfast had been preceded by a much longer, slower, completely toe-curling round of lovemaking, and that was after their romp last night on her couch. And he couldn't forget yesterday afternoon in the shower…

Honestly? They've been completely insatiable.

Grinning to himself with no small amount of pride, he takes a moment to revel in their physical compatibility. He had always suspected they would click in the bedroom as well as they did outside of it, but the reality of Kate has turned out to be far and away better than any two-dimensional fantasy he had conjured before that stormy night when she appeared on his doorstep.

She's amazing. Exquisite. Passionate and vocal and adventurous. She's positively uninhibited with him and it sets him ablaze, his blood burning with an unquenchable desire to have her, to give her pleasure, to make her fall apart over and over. And perhaps what astounds him most is that she lets him, that she wants him just as much and gives it all back with such blatant enthusiasm.

But as blissful as the sex has been, it's so much more than that. What she does to him, what she brings out in him and makes him feel…he's falling harder and deeper with every moment he spends with her, clothed or not. After two unsuccessful attempts at marriage, he had convinced himself that any chance of matrimonial bliss was long behind him, and yet he finds himself daydreaming about sliding a ring onto her finger, about children, about sharing a home and a life with her. He wants forever with her.

There are only a few weeks of her suspension left, and while he could never regret resuming their partnership, he'll miss their aimless days of waking late and cooking together, lounging on the couch and sipping coffee, arguing over the crossword puzzle and settling their disagreements with sex. They'll have to curb the spontaneity they've been able to indulge in during her time off, but he imagines that denying their urges will only intensify things when they can finally give in to their desires at the end of the day. And there's always the supply closet at the precinct if their need becomes desperate, even though she declares _absolutely not, Castle!_ every time he teasingly brings it up…

His reverie is broken when the bathroom door finally clicks open, and he watches as Kate walks almost gingerly back to the bed, worry lancing through him at the sight.

 _Oh God…did I hurt her? Was I too rough? We did that thing with her leg on my shoulder earlier, but that wasn't exactly the first time…_

She grimaces as she sits and then slides under the covers, reclining onto her pillow and throwing an arm haphazardly over her eyes with another deep sigh. Turning onto his side, he takes in her demeanor; she looks thoroughly miserable, and he can't _not_ ask about it, especially if he might be the cause of her discomfort.

"Hey. What is it?"

Her arm flops to the bed, but her eyes stay affixed on the ceiling. She lets out a long, noisy exhale before she shakes her head and says, "I've just been careless."

Wait…careless? It's not a word that fits with who he knows her to be. His writer's imagination goes to work once again, and he tries to think of the myriad of ways in which she could possibly be careless. Immediately, his mind flashes to contraception, and while they haven't had an in depth conversation on the topic of birth control outside of her telling him that she's on the pill, he wonders…

"I'm gonna need to go see my doctor…" she murmurs next.

His eyes widen with the potential implications of that statement. _Oh…oh God_. Not that he wouldn't be thrilled to have another child, and especially with this woman, but…wow. They're barely a few weeks into this thing and…

"Castle."

He finally notices that she's staring at him, a puzzled look on her face at his dumbfounded expression. "Wha? Huh?"

"I'm not pregnant, Castle. I have a UTI."

He's flooded with relief (and maybe the tiniest pinch of disappointment) but…wait, a what?

"You have a what now?"

"A UTI? A urinary tract infection? I've had them in the past, and I'm usually pretty good at avoiding them. In fact, it's been years since I've had one. But we've been, kind of, um…" She clears her throat then, a small, soft smile gracing her lips. "We've been so _enthusiastic_ in the bedroom…"

"Whoa, slow down a second, I don't understand. What does our sex life have to do with you having a…?" He looks to her to fill in the blank for him.

"A UTI. It's actually very common in sexually active women."

When he murmurs _well we've certainly been active lately…_ she reaches over and slaps his bicep playfully.

"Anyway, the technical explanation is that having sex forces bacteria up into the urinary tract where it doesn't belong, and from there it wreaks havoc. It's my own damn fault, really. I should be getting up and using the bathroom after each and every time we have sex, but…"

"Oh God, Kate. I know for a fact you haven't been doing that. We're usually cuddling afterward. Or hell, going straight into the next round." He waggles his eyebrows and throws a suggestive grin her way at that.

"Exactly."

"Why didn't you say something before? God, I feel afwul."

"Castle." She turns on her side to face him then, reaching a hand out to cup his cheek. "You did nothing wrong. I haven't been getting up because…well, honestly, I didn't want to. I wanted to stay with you, in bed."

He can't help the wide smile that splits his face at her declaration. _She wanted to stay._

"Still, I feel terrible that I had anything to do with how you feel right now. Is it bad?"

"Well, it doesn't feel great. It burns when I pee, and I constantly feel like I have to go. There's this weird, crampy pressure low in my abdomen."

Reaching under the covers, he gently places one wide, warm palm just above her pubic bone. "Here?"

She smiles at his tender touch. "Yeah. That actually feels nice."

He draws her close then, their limbs tangling as she slots her head under his chin with a deep sigh of contentment.

"So, what can I do to make it better?"

"Not much. The doctor will just give me some antibiotics. They actually work amazingly fast. I should be feeling better by tomorrow."

"And what about…"

"Sex? Well, we might have to hold off for a day or two."

"Well, I know I can restrain myself, but I don't know about you."

She barks out a laugh at that, and he knows that it's because he's not entirely off-base. She initiates things as often as he does, if not more so.

"Well, I'm sure we can find something else to do." She pulls back so she can see his face, a sly little smile gracing her lips. "You know, we could read…"

 _Oh, this woman._

"We could could watch TV."

"We could get something to eat."

His dips his head to capture her mouth with his then, and while it goes no further than the sweet, slow smudging of their lips, at least this time, they're not interrupted.

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 _Thank you for reading...as always, I'd love to hear your thoughts._


	6. Chapter 6

_Taken from an anonymous prompt on tumblr: 3x23. When Ashley comes to talk to Castle, Rick answers Ashley's question about ever being crazy about someone who's determined to push you away. Beckett doesn't come right away and he tells Ashley the answer, not knowing Beckett is silent behind him, hearing every word._

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"Mr. Castle, have you ever been crazy about someone who was determined to push you away?"

His words hit home and Castle can only gape at him, his mouth opening, then closing, then opening once more.

"Ashley, I…" he begins, but that's as far as he gets, any remaining words dying in his throat.

He looks at the young man again, his expression so sincere and desperate and full of hope, and suddenly, the patronizing " _hey kid, it's not my place to intervene"_ advice that had been on the tip of his tongue seems supremely hypocritical. Of all people, he certainly knows a thing or two about what it's like to be over the moon about someone who persistently keeps you at arm's length. This kid sought him out, mustered up the nerve to speak to him man-to-man, trusted him enough to ask him for advice about his own daughter. He's got guts; for that reason alone, he deserves better than simply being placated and sent on his way.

"You know Ashley, I actually understand that all too well."

"You do?"

"Yeah, I do. And in my case, there's the added twist of that person already being in a relationship with someone else."

"Oh man, I'm sorry to hear it, Mr. Castle. At least I get to be pretty sure Alexis hasn't moved on yet."

That makes Castle chuckle; the kid has a pretty decent sense of humor about the whole thing. "No, she hasn't. I can assure you, she's just as miserable about this as you are right now."

"So…what do I do? How do I fix this? Again, I know I screwed up. I should have followed my instincts and trusted that she and I could work this out, and I want to tell her that, but I also want to be respectful of her wishes. God, love is so confusing sometimes."

Castle's eyebrows shoot up at that statement. Love? This conversation is starting to veer into some pretty serious territory that he may not be entirely comfortable with. This is his baby girl they're talking about, after all.

Ashley panics upon seeing his surprised expression. "Um, I mean, when I say love, what I'm actually saying is…well, um…" He pauses then, and Castle watches as the young man's demeanor changes completely, something steely and determined coming over his features. "No, you know what? I'm not gonna lie. I love your daughter Mr. Castle, and I know that's probably weird to hear as her parent and I'm sorry about that, but I don't want you to doubt my intentions toward her. I live to put a smile on her face, and the last thing I want to do is make her unhappy. You can understand that, right?"

Of course he understands. God, when Kate smiles, it feels like a ray of sunshine breaking through the clouds and warming his face. And some of his biggest regrets over the past few years have come from his interference in her mother's case and the misery that caused her each time. Yeah, he knows a thing or two about what it means to love someone, and he has a sudden rush of sympathy for this young man.

"I do understand Ashley, and I appreciate your honesty. Tell you what, I'll chat with Alexis when I get home tonight, okay? I make no guarantees about the outcome of that conversation, but I can try."

"Thanks, Mr. Castle, Honestly, all I want is a chance to make this right with her. And for what it's worth, I hope things work out with the person you're interested in."

Castle suddenly feels a little sheepish for having brought it up with him, but the kid's heart is in the right place. "Ah, yes…well, it's complicated."

"It's Detective Beckett, isn't it?"

Castle sputters at that, once again rendered speechless by this young man. _And how exactly does he know this?_

At least Ashley has the decency to look a little bashful for putting him on the spot. "Alexis may have mentioned it to me once when I asked her if you were seeing anyone. She also said that she's pretty sure Detective Beckett feels the same way."

 _Wait…she said what?_

"Mr. Castle, I'm no expert on this subject, obviously. But if you believe for even a second that there's a possibility that you two could be happy together, don't you owe it to the both of you to be honest? To at least give it a shot?"

Castle is practically beside himself now, totally thrown by the direction this conversation has taken. "Uh, Ashley, listen, I know you're just trying to help, but like I said before, it's complicated. She and I, we…we don't have that kind of relationship, and she's got a boyfriend and…and I just, I don't know if I….if we…."

He trails off, unsure of what to say next because the truth is, Ashley is right. Castle knows they could be good together; great even. And since when does he hold back when there's something he truly wants? Why does the thought of baring his soul to this woman terrify him?

He knows the honest answer, of course. If he were to declare his feelings and she rejected him, he worries that not only might his heart never recover, but it could spell the end of their partnership. However, he also knows that the situation as it stands now is untenable; as it is, there have been moments when he's barely been able to restrain himself. He's had to bite his tongue to the point of drawing blood to keep himself from declaring his undying love for her, or curl his hands into fists, digging his nails into his palm to stop himself from wrapping her up in his arms. So remarkably enough, this young man standing before him is absolutely, 100% correct.

"You know Ashley, I can't believe I'm saying this, but you're right. I need to tell her that I'm completely, hopelessly in love with her, and that she's my very best friend. After everything we've been through together, I owe that to both of us."

Ashley smiles at that, obviously pleased to have returned the good advice.

"That's awesome, Mr. Castle. Hey, thanks for taking time out of your day to speak with me, and for your willingness to talk to Alexis. I can't tell you how much I appreciate it." The young man boldly extends his hand to him, and he takes it, a newfound respect for this kid blooming in his chest.

"Oh, and, um…good luck talking to Detective Beckett, although I have a feeling that conversation is going to take place sooner rather than later."

"Thanks, Ashley. Wait…what?"

Ashley releases his hand and begins walking back to the elevator, but not before he says, "Hey Detective, nice to see you again."

Castle freezes in place, his eyes slamming shut and the breath leaving his body with a _whoosh_. He can feel the prickling sensation of his mortification creeping up his chest and face, his cheeks ablaze with embarrassment. _Oh God no_. This is _not_ how it was supposed to happen.

Struggling to regain control, he takes a few deep breaths before turning to face the music, and when he opens his eyes, Beckett looks…well, she doesn't look at all like he was expecting. She's leaning against the wall and carefully watching him, a soft expression on her face and one hand clasped in the other. He expected anger, or maybe pity, but instead, she simply looks…unsure.

"How much did you hear?"

"Enough."

 _Oh God…she knows_. He can't bear to look at her, so instead, he watches the toe of his shoe intently as it nudges at a chipped floor tile. "Ah. Well, for what it's worth, I'm sorry you had to find out that way."

"I'm not."

He glances up at her again, _really_ looking and taking in her body language this time, and he realizes she seems uncharacteristically nervous; her fingers are twisted together and she's biting her bottom lip and her entire body seems fidgety.

He takes a step toward her, unsure of what the next step is for them. She knows the truth, so how do they proceed? Do they talk about this? Does she kick him out of the precinct forever? Do they pretend like it never happened?

"So. Beckett. Now what?"

She takes a deep breath before she replies, "Well, it turns out Jeremy Keiper moved back to New York last month so we need to go question him about Amber."

Ah, okay. So option number three it is. He smiles and nods, determined to not let her see how disappointed he actually is.

But then she continues, "And then later on, after I break up with Josh, I'm coming over to your place and we're going to talk over a bottle of wine."

His eyes grow comically huge as he watches her turn on her heel and start walking back to the bullpen. In the space of a breath, he forces his leaden legs to follow and he catches up to her at her desk. He doesn't want to jinx this, mess it up before it's even begun, but he needs to know.

"Beckett…are you serious about this?"

She looks up at him then with an expression he's seen on her face before, but he never knew how to interpret it. Now, he recognizes it for what it is: she feels the same way about him. His heart is beating so rapidly, he worries it will burst from his chest before she can finally answer him.

"Yeah, Castle. I'm serious. And I like red wine, so pick a good one, and I might even stick around for a second glass."

She smiles at him then, wide and bright and uninhibited and _ugh_ , that's it. _That's_ the smile he always wants to see on her face, the one that makes him go weak in the knees, the one he wants to be responsible for putting there, everyday. He can only stand there in wonder, frozen in place with unadulterated joy as he watches her rummaging through her desk and snagging her car keys.

His feet are still firmly rooted to the floor when she begins walking to the elevator, and when she notices that he's not beside her, she tosses him another shy smile over her shoulder and asks, "You comin', Castle?"

He knows he's grinning like a fool when he eventually stumbles toward her, but he couldn't care less. Doesn't she know by now, he'd follow her anywhere?

* * *

 _Thank you for reading...as always, I'd love to hear your thoughts._


	7. Chapter 7

_Inspired by a piece of Random-Ship's fanart and written to celebrate her birthday, which can be found at random-ship_ dot _tumblr_ dot _com_ slash _post_ slash _86807818088._

* * *

 _Hey Castle, you in the mood for a nap?_

The answer is always _yes, of course._ Whether they're "napping" or _actually_ napping, how could he ever pass up the chance to cuddle up to the warmth of his wife for a little while on a rare day off? He'll take it, every day of the week and twice on Sunday (and as it just so happens, it's Sunday).

He's already reclining on the bed, awaiting her return from the bathroom, and honestly, what's taking so long? He tamps down his impatience, the inevitable result of a particularly draining week spent apart; his writing deadline combined with Kate's late nights at the precinct had worked in conjunction to run them ragged. They've had almost no downtime together, so yeah, he's more than ready for some quality time simply being close to her, in whatever the capacity.

He hears movement from the bathroom then, running water and her soft steps about the space. The door finally opens and before he can draw a breath, she's bounding onto the bed and on top of him, straddling his hips and smiling so wide, her face looks like it may split in two.

"Uhhh…what's up, Beckett?"

"I'll give you three guesses. Go."

What on earth is she playing at? Her grin is positively giddy, her entire body vibrating with some mysterious energy. But he loves seeing her like this, playful and teasing and unabashedly happy, so he'll play along willingly.

"Okay. Ummm…oh, I know! They're making _Naked Heat_ into a movie."

She laughs at his suggestion, and it's such a bright, sunny sound, he finds himself laughing along with her. She shakes her head though, "As lovely an idea as that is, no, that's not it. Besides, I think Nikki and Rook are better suited to the written word than they are the big screen."

She leans down and kisses him then, soft and sweet, his very own Nikki Heat come to life, only more gorgeous and radiant and _real_ than any character that fills the pages of his imagination. She pulls away but doesn't go far, waiting expectantly for his next idea.

"Okay, then how about…ooooh! You made a special trip out and bought me some of my favorite ice cream? You can admit it, you like the potato chip fudge, too."

"I confess, it was much better than I was expecting it to be. But no, that's not it, although we may have to get some soon. You know, since I might be getting weird cravings and all."

He's so busy formulating his next guess, he almost misses her completely blatant hint, but then the implication hits home, and his eyes go wide.

"Kate…are you telling me…are you pregnant?"

She simply smiles and nods, and he's just as speechless, because oh God…a baby? A little bit of him, and hopefully a whole lot of her. Best surprise ever.

As he sits up and draws her near, her hands cup his face and she presses her lips to his, and _oh_ , how he adores this woman. He sees it now, the unmistakable glow that surrounds her, and he wonders, how was that not his first guess?

They're both crying, their tears of joy mingling as their lips brush and noses bump together. He pulls back to take her in, his beautiful, beautiful wife, her eyes shiny and her nose a little reddened. She's never looked so stunning to him as she does at this moment.

"Oh, Kate. We're having a baby."

She can only murmur _uh huh_ in response before she's kissing him again, their shared bliss converging where their lips meet over and over.

Their joy finally escalates into something closer to passion, a desperate need taking over, their desire dictating their next movements. He rolls her beneath him and sets about undressing her, taking extra time to reverently kiss the flat expanse of her belly, the manifestation of their love for each other still unseen, but there all the same.

There will be no napping today…only celebrating.

* * *

 _Thank you for reading...as always, I'd love to hear your thoughts._


	8. Chapter 8

_Taken from an anonymous prompt on Tumblr: "Sir, could I talk to you in private for a moment, please?" Montgomery/Beckett pairing._

* * *

 _Set shortly after the events of Knockdown._

* * *

When Montgomery finally hangs up from the call he's been on for the better part of the last hour, she takes a deep, bracing breath, screwing up her courage as she steps into his office

"Sir, could I talk to you in private for a moment, please?"

"Sure, Beckett. Shut the door and have a seat. Hey, where's your shadow today, anyway?"

"Oh, well, we don't have anything active at the moment so he's home, working on a deadline."

"Not having a case to work has never stopped Castle from coming in before. Or from avoiding a deadline."

She forces a smile at that, mainly because she doesn't want to give away how much she's already struggling with what she's come in to say.

"Actually, sir, that's why I wanted to talk to you. I don't know quite how to put this, but I'm starting to wonder if Castle hasn't become something of a distraction around here, and if we aren't doing the same thing to him. I mean, I get that enjoys the work, and sure, he's been very helpful at times. But, I feel like I'm constantly behind with my paperwork, not to mention his publisher has resorted to calling me in order to track him down and demand the chapters he owes them. I can't help but think…"

She trails off when she finally notices the look of utter amusement that has come over Montgomery's face. "Sir?"

He clears his throat and straightens up in his chair, possibly in an effort to show her that he's taking her seriously, but she has a sinking feeling that he already sees through her flimsy reasoning. "I'm sorry, Beckett. Please, go on."

She'd continue except those were her only arguments. Wracking her brain, she searches the furthest reaches of her mind for excuses to eject Castle from the precinct, the problem being, she has none. He's got an extraordinary mind for this work. Their clearance rate has never been higher. And her captain is no fool; he's seen the natural chemistry and camaraderie between them, so what can she possibly say that would sound convincing?

She's not lying, though…not exactly. Castle _is_ a distraction, but it's not his silly theories or childish antics that are drawing her attention away from her work these days. Ever since their undercover kiss a few weeks ago, she can't stop…staring. At his mouth, at his hands, at his ass. It's become a real problem, her mind constantly wandering back to that night as he sits beside her desk, his scent wafting in her nose. She grapples with the memory of how it felt to have his soft lips sealed to hers, the hard lines of his body pressed again her own, his tongue and how it…

"Beckett?"

 _Oh no…not again_. And he's not even here. She is _so_ off her game.

She recovers quickly enough, though. "Honestly sir, I think at this point it would probably be fine if he didn't come in for every case. Like, maybe every third or fourth case? Or maybe just the unusual ones? That way I can get caught up, and so can he, and…"

Her voice falters once more because damn it, Montgomery is smirking again, and _what the hell is that all about?_ This isn't a joke. She musters as much seriousness as she can in spite of how awkward she feels.

"I'm sorry sir, have I said something funny?"

Montgomery's expression sobers then, his eyes boring into her own, and she suddenly feels exposed under her captain's scrutiny. Perhaps this wasn't such a good idea after all.

"What is this really about Beckett?"

"Sir?"

"I've heard your explanation and I don't buy it. So I'm asking you, what is this really about?"

Talk about turning the tables; this is not how this conversation was supposed to go. But if there's anyone who has as sharp an investigative mind as her own, it would be the man who trained her, and now that he's called her out, she wonders how she could have ever expected any less of him.

She can't meet his eyes anymore, her cheeks flaming with embarrassment as she stares intently at her hands, folded neatly in her lap. "Sir…I…I just…I told you…my work…"

"Does this have anything to do with your confrontation with Lockwood?"

That gets her attention, and she looks up at him again, searching his face desperately for some hint of what he might know. "Sir?"

"That was a high-pressure, high-stakes situation, Beckett, and Castle came through for you. God knows what would have happened if you had been on your own that night. I would think he's proved his value to you by now, but instead you want him gone. Why?"

Her mouth opens, then closes just as quickly when she realizes she was about to make the same bullshit excuses that Montgomery had already set fire to and blown away. She's got nothing.

He saves her from having to answer when he continues then. "Beckett. I think I know what this is about, but I'm not gonna embarrass the both of us by putting you on the spot."

 _Well, thank goodness for small favors_.

"But when you come in here and ask me to do your dirty work and get rid of Castle for you, I want you to ask yourself if that's what you _really_ want."

 _It's not. Goddamnit, it's not._

"The truth is, this is my precinct. I can kick Castle to the curb anytime I want. But you'd better think long and hard before you make a request like that."

She can only sit there, still and silent, and absorb what he's trying to tell her. In her heart of hearts, she knows she doesn't want their partnership to end. But this… _thing_ between them, it only grows stronger by the day, and more difficult to ignore. With every case that they solve together, with every working meal and celebratory drink that they share, with every story from her past that she entrusts to him, she finds herself falling deeper and deeper. Their connection has grown beyond partnership, beyond friendship, and it scares the hell out of her.

And that night in the alley? That first kiss may have taken her by surprise, but there was nothing fake or forced about the second one. She wanted it to go on and on. She wanted him to push her up against the closest car, press his body harder into hers, slide his hands over her breasts and between her legs. She wanted him to take her home, strip her bare and make her moan uncontrollably.

It's been almost unbearable since then, feigning happiness and normalcy when she sees Josh, mustering up enthusiasm in bed with him when all she sees behind her closed eyes now is Castle. Castle undressing slowly, Castle settling himself between her thighs, Castle driving her up and up and up with his mouth, his fingers, his body. Making her come hopelessly undone, over and over…

Oh God…enough already.

"I understand, Sir. I'll give it some more thought and get back to you."

"That's a good idea, Beckett, because the truth is, I think he's good for you."

Montgomery makes a nodding motion toward the bullpen as he speaks, and when she turns to look, there's Castle, exiting the elevator with two steaming cups of coffee in his hands. He scans the room looking for her, and when he finally spots her behind the glass partitions of the captain's office, his face splits into a beaming grin as he holds up the cups in invitation.

She can't hold back the smile that takes over her face at the sight of her partner and his obvious enthusiasm, and when she looks back at Montgomery, he has the decency not to look smug.

"Go on, Beckett. Go say hi to your sidekick. It's the least you can do after he's come in to distract you."

She can only nod sheepishly and exchange a knowing glance with her captain before she rises to leave.

"Yes, sir."

* * *

 _Thank you for reading...as always, I'd love to hear your thoughts._


	9. Chapter 9

_Taken from a photo prompt, which can be found at castleincalifornia_ dot _tumblr_ dot _com_ slash _post_ slash _111034263364 (photo is mildly NSFW)._

* * *

Kate Beckett was a creature of habit.

She had a well-established ritual after she wrapped every case: box up the evidence. File the paperwork. Go home. Skip dinner. Pour a glass of red wine. Pick a book from her collection. Run a very hot bath. Take the glass of wine and book into said bath. Soak until transformed into a prune. Dry off. Go to bed. Sleep like the dead.

For years, it had been her tradition, and it brought her a certain measure of comfort. Her routine was reliable, predictable. It helped to effectively place her life back in order, to quiet the chaos that accompanied every murder. She calmly re-centered herself each time so she could return to her job the next day, steeling her psyche for the next homicide that came her way. And it had always worked for her.

Until Richard Castle came into her life, that is.

It's not like he disrupted her habits right away. No, in the beginning, it was easy enough to walk away after they had solved their latest case, and she would only spare him a thought if the book she brought into her bath was one of his. He was just an acquaintance. A work colleague. An annoying insect that she could shoo away with a wave of her hand. She could leave him and his shenanigans at the precinct after a long day and never look back.

But then he wrote a book about a detective with a stripper name, a book based on _her, a_ nd for the first time ever, he interfered with her ritual. He came home with her, was in the bath with her, kept yapping incessantly in her ear. He wasn't _actually_ there, of course, but why was he still in her head? That night, she promised to never bring Nikki into the tub with her ever again (a pledge that lasted all of three days).

He took a more direct approach to interfering with her routine after that. _C'mon Beckett._ _Have a drink with me, my treat._ How many times and how many ways could she say _no thank you?_ He was determined though, she'd give him that much. He'd asked at least two dozen times before she finally said _yes, fine, one drink_ in an effort to humor him, reasoning that her acquiescence just this once would convince him to back off. How very wrong she was.

More and more, they'd go out for that drink after wrapping a case. Sometimes, he even talked her into getting dinner with him. Dinner, for heaven's sake! Dinner was _not_ part of the ritual. Didn't he realize what he was doing, how disruptive this was? Every time, she vowed to gently turn him down the next time he asked, and every time, she made a liar out of herself and accepted his invitation.

Before long, she found herself sharing things with him, telling him stories from her childhood or her early years on the force. Every now and then, usually after a particularly rough case, she'd talk about her mom. He listened with rapt attention each time, his blue eyes focused intently on her, laughing at the humorous stories and commiserating over the sad ones. And he shared his own life, too; his disrupted youth, his travels, his writing, his daughter. It was easy and fun and somewhere along the way, _this_ became her ritual.

There were long stretches when they didn't drink together. He spent a summer in the Hamptons (with his ex-wife, no less). She spent a summer recovering from a gunshot wound at her dad's cabin (and steadfastly ignoring her phone). But they always found their way back, resuming their partnership and their routine of sharing a post-solve drink each time. She was loath to admit it, but she had missed it, had missed _him_ , and her old customs, the ones she had clung to so desperately? She hadn't missed those at all.

On a stormy night in May, she had a long-overdue epiphany: what she was doing didn't work anymore. _She_ didn't work anymore, not without _him_. Her habits had only ever served to isolate her, leaving her forever lonely, always on the outside looking in, and by God, she wanted _in._ She was done with the flimsy excuses and weak rationalizations. She wanted to _live._ So, she did the only thing that made sense at that moment: she went to him and told him the truth.

 _I just want you._

They decided new rituals were in order after that night, ones they created together. She continued to solve cases with him, their partnership stronger than ever, but now when she wrapped a case, she went about things a little differently: box up the evidence. File the paperwork. Go home. Order in from their favorite Chinese place. Pour two glasses of red wine. Undress her favorite author. Run a very hot bath. Take the glasses of wine and naked author into said bath. Soak and talk and laugh until transformed into prunes. Dry off. Go to bed. Make love. Fall asleep in his arms.

Be happy.

* * *

 _Thank you for reading...as always, I'd love to hear your thoughts._


	10. Chapter 10

_Taken from an anonymous prompt on Tumblr: Pregnant Beckett can't keep her hands off Rick, not that he's complaining. (includes some mild M-rated content)_

* * *

She couldn't help it. She really couldn't.

Kate's first trimester had been brutal. One day after the next of nausea and irritability, of being exhausted by mid-afternoon. At dinnertime, she was either ravenous or couldn't stomach a single bite, and most nights she was down for the count before most senior citizens had gone to bed. She was living on the assurances of her obstetrician that most women experienced some relief during the second trimester, that her energy would most likely surge and she'd have a feeling of well-being that had eluded her during those first few months of pregnancy.

When her thirteenth week rolled around, the transformation was positively magical, and if she hadn't been experiencing it first-hand, she wouldn't have believed it. Suddenly, her energy was boundless, and her body felt aglow. Her skin and hair looked fabulous and healthy, her bust line becoming more buxom by the day. Her belly had only started to become ever-so-slightly rounded, and she could still fit into her regular clothes. But perhaps the most noticeable shift was the surge in her libido.

It began early one Saturday morning, when she awoke and rolled over to take in the sight of her slumbering husband, bare from the waist up and his hair adorably askew as he snored softly. She felt a sudden, overwhelming rush of tenderness for him; Castle had been so unbelievably good to her during those first weeks, waiting on her hand and foot. His accommodation of her knew no bounds, and he would drop everything to get her what she needed, whether it was some saltine crackers to nibble on, or a waste can to vomit into.

But this morning? This morning she felt divine, and it only took seconds for her affection to morph into desire. She couldn't help it…she was consumed only with thoughts of how desperately she wanted him.

As she nuzzled into his naked chest, his arms moved to wrap around her, the gesture automatic even in his sleep, but her suggestive actions were rousing him quickly. Unwilling to wait, her hands firmly stroked his length, that part of his anatomy awakening faster than its owner, and when he finally stirred and realized what she was up to, his eyes flew open, squinting painfully against the bright morning sunlight that filled the room.

"Mmmmph. Kate? What are you doing?"

"What does it feel like I'm doing? C'mon Castle. Get with the program. I need you. _Now_."

His smile belied any annoyance at being woken by his horny wife, and he helped her to nudge his boxers down while he rolled her beneath him. He slipped a hand between her legs only to discover that she was so hot and wet, so ready for him already, and he groaned at the sensation.

"God damn, Beckett. Not that I mind at all, but what's gotten into you this morning?"

"I want my husband, that's all. So why don't you zip it and show me how much you want your wife?"

"Happily," he replied, sealing his mouth to hers, and when he slid into her that morning, both of them gasping at the overwhelming pleasure this act gave them, he thought, _I could get used to this._

* * *

And get used to it, he did. That morning was only the beginning of months of seduction by his insatiable wife.

There was the time in the kitchen, when she hopped up on the counter and wrapped her legs around his waist, pleading with him to please, _please fuck her,_ right there and then.

Then there was the time in the locker room at the precinct. He walked out that day, surprised and mildly scandalized by the things she did to him in the small shower stall she had dragged him into, by the things she had asked him to do to her. How she had braced her arms against the tile and wiggled her ass at him, begging him to please just take her _right now_. So he did and _my god_ , it had been amazing and naughty and unforgettable.

Oh, how he loved his pregnant wife.

There were the times in the back of her cruiser. Or that once in a deserted corner of the library at that benefit they attended, or the secluded spot in the park where they enjoyed a picnic (and so much more). She even dragged him into an empty, darkened exam room at the hospital when they were touring with other expectant parents.

She shocked him speechless more than a few times with her unquenchable appetite for him, not that he was complaining. They had always enjoyed a great sex life, but it was like her pregnancy had flipped the switch from _fantastic_ to _phenomenal_.

He was fairly certain every horizontal surface at the loft had been christened by now (and most of the vertical ones as well). And then there were all the times she came to him as he sat at his desk, tapping away at his laptop and weaving the tale of Nikki and Rook's newest adventure (which had become positively G-rated in comparison to his exploits with his wife). She would drop to her knees and take him in her mouth, sucking slowly and making him see stars as his fingers clenched in her hair and he groaned _oh my God Kate_

They had to adjust as her belly grew, but it never slowed them down, never got in their way. She was so sensitive, so responsive to his touch, the pregnancy hormones heightening her awareness and making everything that much more pleasurable. She couldn't get enough of him, and he was only too happy to satisfy her every desire.

* * *

She was in her thirty-ninth week when they had indulged in a gloriously intense round of love-making, his front plastered to her back, her generous belly making this one of their favorite positions now. Both of them rolled to their backs afterward, panting and sweating and smiling, and he took her hand in his, squeezing his love and satisfaction into her skin, finally speaking when their breathing had slowed.

"Please don't take this the wrong way Beckett, but I'll miss it when you're not pregnant anymore."

She barked out a laugh at that, because she knew exactly what he meant. There was no implication that their sex life had in any way been inadequate before; both of them had enjoyed the drastically increased libido that accompanied her pregnancy.

Turning her head to him, she found that he was already staring at her, and his expression could only be described as besotted. "I know. It's been fun, hasn't it?"

"Fun is an gross understatement. And sorry to be the one to break this to you, but it's also the last time we'll have an uninterrupted sex life for God knows how long."

She groaned at that, her eyes closing momentarily against the reality of his words. "Don't remind me. Life will never be the same, will it?"

He smiled softly at her then, reaching his hand out to span her stretched belly, their little one nudging at the soft pressure of his palm.

"No, it'll never be the same, but believe me when I say you won't mind."

* * *

 _Thank you for reading...as always, I'd love to hear your thoughts._


	11. Chapter 11

_Taken from a photo prompt on Tumblr, which can be found at castleincalifornia_ dot _tumblr_ dot _com_ slash _post_ slash _115722577854._

* * *

 **The Story of Us**

* * *

"Penny for your thoughts?"

She slowly draws her eyes away from the sight of their daughter dancing with her new husband only to look into the sparkling blue eyes of her own spouse.

"Oh, nothing much, I'm just thinking…about…"

She trails off as she glances at the swaying couple again, her mind a tangled web of memories and wistfulness and gratitude and _where has all the time gone?_

Their little girl got married today, and while Zoe is certainly no youngster at the ripe old age of twenty-seven, she'll always be Kate's baby, no matter how often her daughter protests her use of that term.

She turns back in time to see Castle scooting his chair closer to hers, their knees kissing now, his hand resting on his leg but close enough to brush a finger teasingly against his wife's bare calf. He still likes touching things.

Some things never change.

"Tell me, Kate."

She sighs and shakes her head, knowing there's no way she can escape the inquiries of her always-astute partner. "I can't believe our Zoe is married, Castle."

Looking to their youngest child, his face is taken over by the warm, infectious smile she that she so adores, the one that makes his eyes crinkle and his cheeks crease with the force of it. He directs that smile back at her then, and she flushes hot under his appreciative gaze. Even after thirty years of marriage, he still has that power over her.

"Remember _our_ first dance?"

Her own smile breaks free then, the memory of their perfectly impromptu wedding setting her heart aglow.

"How could I forget it?"

She slides her hand into his, lacing their fingers and squeezing, the simple gesture hopefully conveying her gratitude for their amazing marriage, from those first dance steps as man and wife, to this moment, right now, watching their daughter do the same.

He squeezes back. Of course he understands.

"We've written quite the story for ourselves, haven't we Beckett?"

He still knows the right thing to say. Most of the time, anyway.

"We certainly have."

"And to think it all began that fateful night at a rooftop book party, when a smokin' hot homicide detective sought out the company of a ruggedly handsome mystery novelist…"

"Um, I think you're conveniently omitting the part where I was there to question you in connection to several murders."

His eyebrows shoot up in mock disapproval. "I'm sorry, but who's telling this story?"

She smirks at his outburst, shaking her head in contrition. "My apologies. Please continue."

He rolls his eyes theatrically before proceeding. " _Anyway_ , the writer had nothing to do with those murders _,_ of course, but at the very least, Harrison Tisdale did show a modicum of good taste in choosing to emulate his novels."

 _Tisdale_. Now there's a name she hasn't thought about in years. Yes, she supposes she can spare a sliver of gratitude for him, having acted as the conduit to her future husband and all, but Castle's glee over his books being used as the inspiration for a sociopath is another story altogether.

"People died, Castle."

"And I fully acknowledge that was a tragedy. Are you gonna let me finish or what?"

She simply nods this time, happy to humor him and his overactive imagination.

"Now then, where was I?"

"You were creatively distorting our humble beginnings."

"Ah yes, right. There was an instant and powerful spark between the detective and the writer, an undeniable chemistry that would have him trying to bed her by the end of their very first case."

Kate snorts, but he continues undeterred.

"Shortsighted and stubborn as she was, the detective was willing to walk away when the case was wrapped. But the writer…no, he knew he had a future with her, even if she was deeply in denial about it still."

"Castle…"

"Shush, I'm just starting to get to the good part."

"Oh, this I've gotta hear."

"The novelist used his extensive connections to be installed as her new partner, a move that she fully embraced from the get-go." He ignores her pointed _Ha!_ before continuing. "Their attraction was palpable, their dynamic sizzling. They made an amazing pair, delivering a solve rate that other homicide detectives have been trying to match ever since, without success I might add."

She grins at that. He's not wrong; their solve rate has never been rivaled.

"Their partnership flourished, and a friendship blossomed. Alas, the course of true love never did run smooth, and the detective and the writer experienced more than their fair share of ups and downs during those first few years. They both had a good amount of baggage they were grappling with. There were fights and misunderstandings. Other lovers that came between them. Lies, both big and small, that threatened to tear them apart before they'd ever had a chance to begin."

His face is thoughtful now, so many more creases and lines adorning it than that of the cocky, abrasive young man she first met, but she adores each and every one. She loves the wrinkles and the grey hairs and all of the history that accompanies them.

She squeezes his hand again, maybe never so appreciative as she is in this instant that they were able to overcome their stupidity and clear the air and finally just _talk_ to each other.

"On a stormy night in May, the detective finally came to the writer, rain-soaked and scared and ready to finally give him a proper chance. That was the night they finally found each other. The night their happily ever after began."

Another smile at that, another squeeze.

"They were married a few years later in a small, intimate ceremony that far surpassed any big, lavish affair. It was beautiful, emotional, perfect. A _third time's the charm_ for the writer and a _one and done_ for the detective. Of course, they had to get rid of her first husband before they could wed, but that's a story for another time."

She blurts out a loud laugh at that, her hand covering her mouth to contain the sound. He always does know how to lighten the mood.

"Their son, Aaron, a spitting image of his ruggedly handsome father, was born about a year and a half later. Zoe, their baby girl, was a surprise that arrived a year and half after him. And together, along with Alexis, his mother, and her father, they made a family."

She's getting misty-eyed now, listening to him talk about the people who comprise the family she's come to love so fiercely.

"They loved and lived and had adventures all over the globe. The writer wrote a dozen books in total about the detective's alter ego, and the detective retired early from the NYPD to return to law school, so she could fight for the people who have the least, who have no voice in the system. And the writer is profoundly proud of her, every day."

This time, he's the one to squeeze her hand.

"Time passed. Nikki Heat retired. The writer took on new challenges, and the lawyer took on new cases. They moved into a bigger home, where they shared an office. They cooked and traveled and entertained together, enjoying everything life had to offer them. They loved their children as they shuttled them to soccer practices and ballet and piano lessons. They attended spelling bees and recitals and sports meets and loved every last minute of it.

"Aaron showed a talent for music young, and learned to play over ten instruments proficiently in his first two decades of life. He plays with the London Philharmonic now and his parents miss him desperately, but he visits often with his wife and will soon grace them with a grandchild."

Kate smiles widely at that, Aaron and Julia having just announced her pregnancy when they arrived home for Zoe's wedding. They've been grandparents for a while to Alexis's three children, but more babies are always a welcome thing.

"And Zoe…oh, that girl. Their free spirit, their rebel, their beautiful surprise who apparently did not care that her mom and dad wanted to wait a little bit longer before having another child, who disregarded and conquered their birth control, intent on exerting her will as early as the moment of her conception."

That earns him a hearty laugh. To this day he's a skilled storyteller, and their Zoe makes for some excellent source material.

"From the very start, Zoe didn't possess the mellow demeanor of her brother. Oh no, she was determined to be a handful, and a handful she was. Precocious and competitive with a wicked sense of humor. But she grew into a gorgeous, confident, self-possessed young woman, just like her mother, but with a talent for words, just like her father. And unbeknownst to her parents, she managed to get her first book published under a pseudonym so she wouldn't be given preferential treatment because of her old man. Jesus, I still can't believe she did that."

"You're kinda breaking the fourth wall here, babe."

"My apologies. But if you can find it in your heart to forgive me, I'm close to wrapping up. Zoe became a successful writer in her own right, and one day, she was introduced to a bright young lawyer that her mother worked with, and…well, here we are."

They both look to Zoe and David then, their foreheads tipped together in a gesture all too familiar to her parents, the finals notes of the song wafting through the air. When the bandleader invites others to join the newlyweds on the dance floor now, Castle rises and extends his hand to his wife.

"May I have this dance?"

She smiles and stands, the two of them weaving their way into the crowd, wrapping themselves around each other with the kind of intimacy that old lovers share, as the music resumes.

Kate breathes in the familiar scent of her husband as her hand rests over the heart that has beat only for her for more than thirty years now, and her own heart swells with gratitude, for who he is, for how far they've come, for this life they've made together.

"So Castle," she begins as she pulls back, once again staring into the clear blue that rivals a sunny, cloudless sky, "you haven't finished the story yet. How does it end?"

He smiles and leans in to touch his lips gently to hers.

"That's the best part of all. The story's not over yet. We're still writing it."

* * *

 _Thank you for reading...as always, I'd love to hear your thoughts._


	12. Chapter 12

_Taken from a gif prompt, which can be found at castleincalifornia_ dot _tumblr_ dot _com_ slash _post_ slash _122047978814 (gif is NSFW,_ _includes some M-rated content)_

* * *

They begin to doze off after the second round; she falls limp against his chest and allows herself to be pulled her under, her breath steady and warm against him as she snuffles and snores softly. He tries to stay awake, exploring his newfound ability to touch her freely, reveling in the silky warmth of her skin pressed against his own, simply marveling in her presence.

She's here _._ In his bed. In his arms. _Finally_.

They had sex. _Great_ sex. Twice. He can't contain his smile, in spite of his million questions about how she came to be on his doorstep that night, but his inquiries can wait. Gathering her close, he succumbs to the drug of slumber, falling under even as the smile remains.

When his eyes blink open in the middle of the night, she's rolled away from his side, sleeping soundly on her back, one arm flung carelessly over her head. Gently as not to wake her, he shifts onto his side with his head propped on his hand, and he takes the opportunity to just…look at her. There's no grimace on her face, no teasing that _staring is creepy, Castle_.

And she's…gorgeous. There's really no other word for her. She's just stunning, and his breath seizes momentarily at the thought that she could be his, forever.

He studies her in the low light, in all of her naked, sex-mussed glory, from her head to her toes. Her lips, still plump and kiss-swollen; the sharp contour of her collarbone with his teethmarks in it; her perfect, pert breasts; her taut belly and the small patch of dark hair at the the apex of her thighs.

He smiles when he reaches her toes and finds that they're painted a vibrant purple. Shaking his head in wonder at this woman, this _goddess s_ pread before him, he begins his perusal of her body anew, starting at her feet this time and slowly working up. And this time, when he reaches her face, he finds that her eyes are open.

She's gazing upon him softly with something indefinable in her eyes, something that looks a lot like love and want and unnecessary shyness, considering the things they did to each other just hours before. But if she's feeling even remotely like he is right now, she definitely wants to do it again, and again.

Taking the hand resting between them on the bed, she raises it to her mouth, kissing and sucking each digit deliberately, reverently. The same hand that has lovingly, longingly written their fictional story for the world to see, the same one itching to roam and explore her body once more.

She takes his captive hand then and shifts it, sliding it down the length of her torso and between her legs. She guides his fingers down, further down so he's parting her, two thick fingers gliding back and forth through her soaked folds until her hips are rolling hard against him.

For a time, he watches his ministrations to her; the shiny digits, glistening with her arousal, her need for _him_ ; the way she responds to his touch; her beautiful body and how it moves against his.

But as sexy as it is to see her body, to see the physical evidence of her desire for him, he turns back to watch her face instead as she unashamedly rides his hand. Flushed and half-lidded, her mouth hanging open as she takes panting little breaths, the wanton little moan that occasionally escapes her lips is almost his undoing.

It's the most wildly erotic thing he's ever seen in his life, seeing Kate Beckett like this, open and uninhibited and letting him love her the way he's always wanted to. And when her eyes slide shut and she throws her head back on a deep gasp as her orgasm takes over, he's never been more certain in his life that this is his last first time.

Hers, too.

* * *

 _Thank you for reading...as always, I'd love to hear your thoughts._


	13. Chapter 13

_Taken from a photo prompt on Tumblr, which can be found at castleincalifornia_ dot _tumblr_ dot _com_ slash _post_ slash _124030538214._

* * *

 **Gender Blind**

* * *

"You know, we're going to have to get dressed eventually."

Castle lowers his tablet where he's been perusing the Sunday Book Review and quoting the wittiest snippets, meeting her eyes.

"Says who?"

"Says _me_. We didn't come out to the Hamptons with the intention of lazing around in our pajamas all weekend."

"Okay, first of all, I object to the term _lazing_. And second, we did in fact get out of our pajamas yesterday."

"Skinny dipping in the pool doesn't count, Castle."

"Sure it does. And there was _nothing_ lazy about what we did on the double lounger afterward." His brow waggles in a suggestive dance, and it makes Kate laugh in spite of her protests. He's not wrong.

"Oh, you won't hear me disagreeing with you there. Even the peanut was doing acrobatics afterward."

Castle reaches over to nudge the hem of her camisole upward and spread one warm, wide palm over the small bulge that's steadily taking over her midsection.

"Yeah, she was all over the place."

"Yes, _he_ was." She arches an eyebrow at him in challenge.

Her twenty-week ultrasound is days away they're still debating if they want to know the gender. Castle leans toward no, claiming that there are so few true surprises left in this world, why not get the most out of this one? Kate waffles back and forth; some days, she's perfectly content to ride the wave of mystery her husband sells her on so effectively. Other times, her need for order and control takes over and the idea of not knowing sounds like absolute madness.

"She's not going to appreciate that, you know," he singsongs at her.

Her eyes narrow and her lips purse teasingly, a sure sign she's willing to play along.

"Okay, Castle. I'll bite. Why are you _so_ certain we're having a girl?"

He sits up a little straighter at her side, so obviously tickled that she took the bait.

"Beckett, think about it. Look at me, at my family. This little one?" His fingers stroke over the barely there bump, its mass solid under the heat of his hand. "She's just going to be the next in a long line of powerful, extraordinary women."

She shakes her head, her front teeth clamping down on her bottom lip in an attempt to control the pleased flush on her cheeks, but it's of no use. She knows just how deeply he loves and admires her, but his words of praise never fail to move her.

"Of course, I fully acknowledge that I might be wrong, but I couldn't care less. Boy or girl, I'll be thrilled," he adds, his face softening then, something far-off in his eyes and his smile just this side of melancholy. She senses the shift in his mood and weaves her fingers in between his over her belly, their palms kissing her skin.

"What is it?"

He scrunches his face up, a sure sign he's worried she'll think him a bit silly for whatever's on his mind, but in the end, her gentle squeeze and smile are the only encouragement he needs.

"I never thought this would happen for me again. When I divorced Gina, I just figured I wasn't cut out for the married life. And after being a single parent, I vowed that if I ever had more children, I'd only do it with a partner who I could be confident would stay by my side." He sighs, shifting his hand over her midriff and chasing the butterfly movements of their unborn child.

"I love being a dad so much, but as much as I wanted more kids, I had completely given up on that dream. Until you, I mean." His somber expression gives way to something lighter, the process of unburdening himself of his past loneliness cathartic and cleansing.

Her face splits on a painfully wide smile, because she understands completely. The ways in which she's transformed his life, he's done the same for her. Everything is different now, and they have the other to thank for that.

"I get it. For a long time, my job _was_ my life, and it would have been hard to envision myself stepping back from my duties long enough to have a family, but…I dunno. With you, it just feels like the most natural thing in the world to do."

His answering smile is all the response she needs, any lingering sadness swept away by the silky brush of her lips to his, a seal on her vows to him, to be true to him, to be his partner, to love him, always.

He rests his temple against hers, his breath warm against her cheek as he sighs, "You've given me so much Kate. I don't know how to thank you."

They both start when the movement begins again, their child fluttering gently under the combined weight of their hands. It feels like a "hello" of sorts, and Castle leans forward to press his lips to her belly.

"You've got a ways to go kiddo, but I look forward to meeting you in a few months."

Her heart does a flip in her chest, because this man infuses love into every single thing he does for the people in his life. This little one, boy or girl, is already blessed with an amazing dad.

Castle straightens up then. "You know Kate, whatever you want to do next week, I'm game. Whether we find out or not, it's all good. I just can't wait to be a dad again. And I can't believe I get to do it with you this time around. I'm seriously the luckiest guy alive."

She feels the prickle of tears gathering at the corners of her eyes and throws her arms around his shoulders, her murmurs of _I'm lucky too_ buried in his neck as he holds her close.

When she pulls back to meet his eyes, her own are damp but her smile is dazzling.

"Let's be surprised."

* * *

 _Thank you for reading...as always, I'd love to hear your thoughts._


	14. Chapter 14

_Inspired by a piece of Random-Ship's fanart and written to celebrate her birthday, which can be found at random-ship_ dot _tumblr_ dot _com_ slash _post_ slash _32519326803._

* * *

"What're you thinking about?"

He resists the temptation to roll away from her, away from that question. He knows he's been quiet all morning in a way that's unnatural for him, and it's obvious that Kate's picked up on it. But he can't help himself; they're returning to the precinct tomorrow, and he selfishly fears that everything will change.

Her suspension wasn't exactly a happy development, but they were determined to make the best of it, and make the best of it they certainly did. It turned into blissful days spent in harmonious companionship, and steamy nights spent in each other's beds (they spent many a day there, too). They were inseparable, and while he suspected they'd be good together, he'd no idea just _how_ good.

It's been so effortless with her, so fun. Without a doubt, the best he's ever had. They compliment each other well, their personalities and tastes and desires meshing better than they have any business doing so early on. But, he supposes, that's what happens when you're best friends first, lovers second.

They spent mornings lounging in bed and making love, showering and preparing breakfast together. They roamed though bookstores and parks hand-in-hand, sneaking kisses behind the shelves or pushing the other up against a shady tree and making out like giggly teenagers. At night, they'd chat and make plans over dinner and a fabulous bottle of wine, falling asleep in each other's arms. It's been pure bliss, this uninterrupted time they've had together, and he's loathe to give it up.

But he refuses to give into the sorrow that's tugging at his heart about it. Kate is already concerned about the change in their relationship status and what that could mean to their professional partnership. NYPD regulations explicitly state that partners cannot be romantically involved, and while they're not sure that rule even applies to them, they have no desire to tempt fate. The last thing he wants to do is add to her worries on their final day of sweet freedom.

He shrugs, going for nonchalance. "I'm just thinking about you."

"Liar." So much for nonchalance.

"Whaaaaat?" His feigned ignorance falls flat, even to his ears.

"Is this about tomorrow?"

Of _course_ she knows. Hasn't she proven to be just as attuned to his thoughts as he's always been to hers? Sleeping together has only intensified the connection.

"Yeah. Kinda."

"Okay, fair enough. What has you worried?"

Damn it. Of course she wants to _talk_ about it, too. Can't they just skirt around the topic like they did in the past? Veil it in subtext and hidden meaning and just leave it at that?

Apparently, avoidance isn't an option, as Kate begins to fill in the blanks herself. "Are you worried about us continuing to work together? That the NYPD will put an end to our partnership if they find out about us?"

That concern is lingering in the back of his mind, certainly, but the truth of the matter feels far more self-centered to him. "Well, yes. Sort of."

"Sort of? You wanna elaborate?" Ever the interrogator...she's like a dog with a bone, this woman.

"I just…I'm gonna miss this." He huffs out a sigh as he flops onto his back, mildly ashamed at himself for sounding like such a wet blanket.

Suddenly, she's hovering over him, throwing a leg over his waist to straddle him and prevent his escape from her knowing eyes.

"Hey, listen to me. Yes, I love my job, and there's a part of me that's looking forward to getting back into that routine. But, do you honestly think I'm happy about giving this up? Do you believe for a moment that I'm not going to have a hard time keeping my hands to myself too? That I'm not going to hate the fact that I can't just take your hand in mine, or lean over and give you a kiss whenever I feel like it?"

He shakes his head in wonder; of course she's on the same page already. It makes him so damn crazy for her, he just wants to shout it from the rooftops, but he settles for reaching up and cradling her jaw in his hand, stroking the silk of her cheek with his thumb. She nuzzles into his palm and presses a tender kiss to the skin there, before turning back to him with a dazzling smile.

"Castle, the last six weeks have been amazing. _You've_ been amazing. You made my suspension feel like an extended vacation, and I've loved every minute we've spent together. And tomorrow? Nothing changes. We're still us. I'm still yours, and you're still mine. We just…have to control our baser instincts."

She punctuates her last comment with a little grind of her pelvis, and it has him sucking in a breath, gasping her name as he grabs her hips and presses up into the cradle of her thighs.

"I'm gonna miss doing _this_ whenever we want to." His hands are roaming her body freely now, working her up, but from the look of things, she's on board with his plan, her own fingers moving with confidence over his bare torso.

"Me too, but think of it this way: we'll have all day to think about what we wanna do to each other when we get home at night."

He groans as she rocks against him, gripping her waist as he surges upward, sitting with her squarely in his lap now.

"Jesus Beckett," he murmurs against her mouth. "How are we gonna contain ourselves?"

She laughs against his lips, breathy and high-pitched and completely turned on.

"Let's worry about that tomorrow."

* * *

 _Thank you for reading...as always, I'd love to hear your thoughts._


	15. Chapter 15

_Taken from a photo prompt, which can be found at castleincalifornia_ dot _tumblr_ dot _com_ slash _post_ slash _145529238013._

* * *

She was alone when she lay down to take a nap, but upon waking, Kate finds her husband's front plastered to her back, their limbs tangled and his hand resting on her swollen, eight-month pregnant belly. She must have crashed for a few hours, at least; the afternoon sun is slanting across the ceiling in broad, golden swaths, bidding farewell to the afternoon and welcoming evening in its stead.

She inhales deeply as she stretches, cleansing her lungs of slumber and picking up the faint chemical smell of paint under the familiar scent of Castle's aftershave. They'd spent the afternoon converting a spare bedroom at the Hamptons house into a nursery, covering the walls in sunny shades of orange and yellow. Kate had decided at the very last moment that she didn't want to know the sex of their child, so they settled on some vibrant gender-neutral colors for the theme.

Of course, she had fretted over the details afterward, second-guessing her decision every five minutes, but the room had turned out beautifully in the end, the brilliant hues reminding her of the sunset bonfires they'd built on the shore in years past. Cuddling under blankets, roasting marshmallows, making love on the beach under star-sprinkled skies….they'd created so many idyllic memories here. She can't wait to share this place with their child…their _children_? It makes her insides flutter, thinking about all of the possible futures that await them.

Castle is rousing as well, sighing into the soft hairs at the nape of her neck, his warm breath tickling her skin. "Have a nice nap?"

"Mmmmm…yes. Very nice. Thank you for taking over the painting duties."

"It was my pleasure. Besides, you need your rest. I think you're gonna like the finished product, by the way."

He takes such good care of her, is so endlessly generous, and it makes her heart surge against her ribs. "Really? It's all done? Oh, I can't wait to see it."

"Soon. Let's lie here a little longer." He snuggles closer into her backside, aligning their bodies like teaspoons in a silverware drawer. Long before they were ever a couple, she had suspected they would just _fit_ together, and she wasn't wrong.

It's at that moment their unborn child decides to make themselves known, stretching his or her limbs and taking some lazy swim strokes inside her abdomen. Castle's hand catches the movement, his wide palm spanning as much of her baby bump as he can, chasing the butterfly motions just under the surface.

"Looks like we're not the only ones who just woke up," he murmurs against her ear, his voice still thick with sleepy gravel.

"She just likes showing off for her daddy." The feminine pronoun just slips out, like it so often does lately. She doesn't know why, can't nail down the source of her certainty, but Kate would bet money that this little one is female.

"Still convinced we're having a girl, huh?" There's the unmistakable hint of a grin and no small amount of teasing in his tone.

She grunts, her defensiveness swelling suddenly, unexpectedly. Castle is usually the one who believes in magic and omens and sixth-sense kinds of prophecies, but there's something prodding the back of her brain that insists they're having a daughter. And for once in her life, she's choosing to trust her instincts and believe what her gut tells her to be true.

"I know you think I'm being ridiculous, but…" the words erupt from somewhere deep within, sharper than she intends.

"Whoa, hey, Kate. Hold up, please. I never said that. I don't think you're ridiculous at all." His voice is soft, his fingers flexing on her belly in an attempt to distract her from the outburst she was gearing up for, and she slumps against him, her protest dying in her throat.

He's right; she knows she's being irrational, the flood of pregnancy hormones in her bloodstream making her edgy and irritable in a way that's uncharacteristic. She's always prided herself on being in control, but lately, her emotions have her spinning unpredictably, often leaving her exhausted and embarrassed after the fact.

But this is Castle she's talking to, she reminds herself. This is her husband and her best friend and probably the most loving, understanding soul she's ever encountered in her life. He doesn't deserve her misplaced ire.

"Sorry," she murmurs.

"No need for apologies. You're thirty-seven weeks pregnant. You're allowed to lash out at the man who's responsible for putting you in this condition."

She huffs out a laugh at that; he's grown so intuitive, so good at knowing the right thing to say to talk her down. He believes in her in a way no one else ever has. She takes a deep, calming breath, any remaining fight draining from her body, and she hopes he'll interpret that as his cue to continue. He does.

"Listen, you know I have nothing but absolute, unwavering confidence in your instincts. So, if you believe this little one is a girl-" he takes a moment to run his hand possessively over her belly, "-then I believe you. I'm just wondering _why_."

He simply yearns to grasp where she's coming from, his natural curiosity a living, breathing thing. But she has only the vaguest theory as to how this notion came to be so firmly implanted in her mind. It's one of those things she just _knows_.

Her fingers glide down his forearm until they can lace with his over her stomach, the baby nudging against their joined hands.

"I'm not sure I can explain it. Do you remember, right around the beginning of my second trimester, that really vivid dream I had about my mom?"

"Of course. I remember you frantically telling me the details the morning after, so you wouldn't forget."

She sighs happily, basking in the warmth of the memory. "Exactly. And I told you about how she was discussing motherhood, and reminiscing about when I was a child. I can't describe it, but something about hearing her talk about the mother-daughter bond, it just…it spoke to me, to my heart. And ever since, I've felt certain we're having a girl."

Castle presses his smile against her neck; she knows how much it pleases him that she can talk about her mom like this now, revel in the way she lived rather than drown in the way she died.

"Sure. There are things that touch us deep within, that whisper to our souls. Things that are beyond our comprehension. I get that."

She exhales her relief; of course he understands. He believes in every last crazy mystery of the universe. It's who he is, and while that tendency has been known to drive her insane in the past, today it pleases her to no end.

"I mean, obviously, I don't actually _know_. We'll just have to wait and see, Castle."

"Beckett, if you believe it, I believe it."

He clutches her tightly around her middle, their bodies snug and fitting, so right together. Sometimes it shoots her through with regret, knowing they waited so long to be together, in no small part because of her and her walls, because she insisted on holding him at a distance. But they're here now, drinking up every last drop of this happiness they've found together, and she can't bring herself to dwell on what might have been or never was.

"I've been thinking about names, actually. Interested?"

"You're kidding, right? Yes, do tell."

"Well, I know we've talked about family names, and you suggested doing something to honor my mom. And I love that idea, but I don't think I want to use her given name. It just strikes me as too maudlin."

"What did you have in mind, then?"

"Well, I was thinking about her favorite flower."

"And that was?"

"Lily."

* * *

 _Thank you for reading...as always, I'd love to hear your thoughts._


	16. Chapter 16

_Taken from a photo prompt, which can be found at castleincalifornia_ dot _tumblr_ dot _com_ slash _post_ slash _147116156079._

* * *

 _Please don't be upset._ **  
**

Kate stares at her phone for beat, a frown creasing her brow. Nothing good can come of a text message from her husband that begins that way.

Her sweet, loving husband. The silly, impulsive man that's currently caring for their infant daughter at home today. So his initiating any conversation with a plea like that makes her mind spin wildly into all of the worst-scene scenarios that her cop's brain can conjure in ten seconds flat.

 _Upset about what exactly, Castle?!_

She struggles not to tap her foot and drum her fingers on the surface of her desk while she waits for a response.

 _Oh, no no no, all is well at home, Beckett. Lily is great. Ate all of her cereal and green beans at lunch like a champ. Sorry to worry you. Not my intention._

Something in her chest loosens with his assurances that Lily is alright and in one piece. Not that she believes her husband would ever allow any harm to befall that girl; he's completely besotted with his youngest daughter. There really is nothing more captivating in life than a man who's an amazing parent, and Castle is definitely in the running for best dad in the world. He's got a few more scars and gray hairs than when she first met him, but he's never been been more attractive to her than in his role as father.

Now that her heart has slowed from a worried double-time rhythm, she returns her attention to his first message.

 _Okay Castle, I'll bite. About what am I not supposed to be upset?_

 _God damn, do you know how sexy it is when you use proper grammar? Makes me want to drive straight over to the 12th and drag you into our supply closet and have my way with you._

He attaches a smug, smirking emoji to the last message that makes her laugh out loud. Oh, she's very familiar with that closet. It's hosted many an impromptu make-out session over the years. Crazy as it may sound, the odor of disinfectant is actually arousing now.

 _You can have your way with me later, Castle. Now spill it. What did you do?_

The next text from him doesn't arrive until a few minutes later, as though he's carefully formulating his response. What on Earth is he up to?

 _Okay, so remember when we strolled through that awesome toy store near the loft a few weeks ago? When I was bemoaning the closure of FAO Schwarz and how it was an end of an era?_

 _Yes, I remember. You talked about all of the fabulous toys you'd bought there when Alexis was little. I also remember that you griped about it all the way home._

Oh, and he had. It was like a personal affront to him that the world-famous store had closed its doors. It made her wonder just how many of those toys had been bought for Alexis way back when, and how many had actually been for him.

 _I resent the term "griped."_

 _GET ON WITH IT, CASTLE._

 _Okay, okay! Well, it was such a beautiful morning, I decided Lily and I needed to get out of the loft and enjoy the nice weather. So when we walked by the toy store, I figured, why not go in a let Lily pick out a toy? She's such a good girl, she deserves it._

 _Castle… a) Lily is only 7 months old and is incapable of picking out a toy on her own, and b) she already has far too many toys/stuffed animals/knick-knacks. Her room is overflowing with stuff._

 _That's beside the point, Beckett. I mean, who actually NEEDS a giant stuffed bear? No one. So let's not dwell on that part._

Oh God…no. He didn't. Did he?

 _Castle, what did you do?_

 _Oh…soooooooo I may have bought that amazing teddy bear I was freaking out over the last time. For Lily, of course!_

 _May have? Castle! That thing is HUGE! Where on Earth are we going to put it?_

 _Well…I mean, I hadn't really thought that far in advance._

Of course he hadn't. He wouldn't be Rick Castle if he had.

She shakes her head; over the years, she's accepted that this is the who her husband is. This is the man she fell head-over-heels in love with, in spite of her early promises that she would never allow him close enough to get under her skin. Yes, he's impetuous and doesn't always think through the consequences of his actions. He still screws up on occasion and continues to find new ways to needle her, but his intentions are always genuine, his heart always in the right place. He's kind and generous to a fault, and when he gives you his heart, he does so completely and without hesitation. He makes her smile, brings her joy, sheds light on all of the dark corners of her psyche and drives out the shadows.

He also buys gigantic stuffed animals on a whim.

 _Jesus, Castle. How did you even get that thing home?_

 _Ha! That was an entirely different adventure that I'll expand upon later. Suffice it to say, it involved duct tape and a bungee cord._

She laughs aloud again, in spite of her annoyance. Life with Castle is never dull.

 _Sounds like an interesting tale. I look forward to hearing it. But you haven't answered my question, Castle. Where are we going to put that thing? If my memory is serving me correctly, it was enormous._

 _Oh, yeah. It's huge._

 _You're not helping your cause here, babe._

 _Whoops? Listen, we'll find a place for it. We always do. And at the end of the day, if we need to buy a bigger home to fit all of Lily's (and all of our future children's) toys, then we will. Easy peasy._

Her heart stutters at his words, at the suggestion of more kids, because while she never viewed herself as a "baby person" in her youth, she wants that now. Oh, how she wants more children with this man. Their daughter is perfect and beautiful and chubby and such a happy, happy girl, and she adores her more than she believed possible. She has dreams of a little boy, one that looks exactly like his daddy, but maybe just a tiny bit less mischievous than him…

 _Easy peasy, huh? Just casually pack up the home you've lived in for the better part of 25 years and head out to greener pastures?_

 _If that's what it takes for my loved ones to be comfortable and content, then yes._

She knows that he's simply attempting to placate her, but she also doesn't doubt his sincerity for a moment. He'd pick up and move tomorrow if it's what their family required.

 _Okay Castle, but keep the receipt just in case._

 _Done and done. Now…wanna see a picture?_

 _Duh. Yeah!_

It's a few minutes before her phone chimes with the next incoming message, and she can imagine him the entire time, setting up the picture so that it's just right. She opens the text and taps on the picture, and it's mere seconds before her eyes sting with the threat of tears. She blinks them away as rapidly as she can, typing out her response to him.

 _You're right. It's amazing._

* * *

 _Thank you for reading...as always, I'd love to hear your thoughts and suggestions._


End file.
